lie with me
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: After visiting the newborn scion of the Yukimura family, Kazama reiterates his own wish to produce an heir. Given that Sen has been avoiding him lately for reasons unknown, this is more easily said than done… but maybe if he admits that he sees her as more than just a means to an end, as the future mother of his children, she'll be a little more agreeable. I do not own Hakuōki!


_I was supposed to write a page or so of mostly dialogue for creative writing class. Since I neglected to do so, I'm making up for it now in the form of Kazasen. First line inspired by witterprompts on tumblr!_

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"I hope you know I'm holding this against you," mutters Kazama, the first words he has spoken since they left the tiny house in the forest.

Sen heaves a sigh and gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes, tightening her grasp on his arm as they make their way along the woodland path. "Really, Chikage, don't you think you're overreacting?"

"Not in the slightest," he snaps. "I don't see why you pulled me away from home for _that_. I may have agreed to stop pursuing Chizuru, but by no means did I agree to listen to her mongrel of a husband bark at me all night about how proud he is to be a father."

Sen smiles slyly. "Correct me if I'm wrong," she says, coy as ever, "but you are too suspicious, and too protective, to have allowed me to leave the village unsupervised."

"I'd have asked Amagiri to escort you here if he wasn't away on business," protests Kazama, turning his face away as he realizes he's playing right into her hands… as usual.

Thankfully, Sen is feeling generous, and pretends she doesn't recognize her victory. "I'd have requested that you accompany me regardless," she tells him instead. "The birth of a noble demon _is_ a matter of some importance, you know. It's only right that we greet the child. Our kin."

Kazama snorts; such a vile half-breed can't possibly be considered a true demon. Sen does not miss his wordless derision, and narrows her eyes sharply up at him. "Even if the child's blood is… _mixed_ , it's wonderful that the Yukimura clan will continue after all," asserts Sen, her voice chilly as the autumn air around them. "You cannot deny that."

"On the contrary," retorts Kazama, more icily still. "Chizuru is the last pure Yukimura. The blood of all her descendants will be tainted, thanks to that _fake_." He practically spits the last word, as contemptuous as ever.

Sen gives a faint hum in response. "The child of a fury looks as much like a human, or a demon, as any of us," she says mildly. "Of course, it _is_ a little early to say for certain, but…" She trails off, because she knows Kazama isn't listening. Again.

"I swore I'd kill him," he mumbles eventually, mostly to himself. "As the leader of the last pureblooded demons in Japan, I vowed to eliminate each and every one of the fakes. The only reason I turned a blind eye to _that_ one was because I thought I'd never see him again."

The sentence stops abruptly enough that Sen knows he wants to say more. She may as well say it first: "And I suppose you mean to say it's _my_ fault for inviting you—making you look like a fool for going back on your word," sighs Sen, shaking her head. "Honestly, you drank the poor boy under the table in front of his wife. Isn't that punishment enough?"

"A few meager bottles of sake, and the satisfaction that comes with having a higher tolerance than one's adversary, is hardly enough for me to forgive the insults he paid me last night," gripes Kazama. "You might not have heard him while you were fussing over Chizuru's spawn, but his tone was _clearly_ superior."

Suppressing a smile with difficulty at his petulant tone, Sen leans her head briefly against Kazama's arm. "Poor dearest husband," she tells him, in the strange low tone of voice she adopts only when very angry or very amused. "How dare a fake reproduce before a pureblooded demon."

Kazama's lip twitches into the barest hint of a snarl. "Perhaps if you would _lie_ with me every once in a while," he suggests pointedly, and Sen stiffens. "Lately, it seems you'd rather abstain completely than let me take the reins. Is the idea of relinquishing control to me really so unpleasant?"

"N-now, Chikage, do you really want me to answer that?" asks Sen, only half playful as she tries to determine what she should say. He may be as forward as ever, but she is more easily flustered than she likes to admit when it comes to matters such as this. "You know I have never loved you."

"That was not the question I asked," responds Kazama, looking at her intently, and she has to make an effort to hold his gaze. "Be honored. I'm extending the possibility of communication, and therefore compromise. If you are displeased with me, now is the time to make things right."

"And you wish to discuss this _now_?" asks Sen, disbelieving.

"Why not?" asks Kazama, gesturing at the forest around them—populated only by trees and creatures unseen. "We are married, and we _are_ alone. Speak your mind."

Taking a deep breath, Sen comes to a halt. "The reason I have come to avoid you is not because of any shortcomings in your… performance," she explains, her tone more formal even than usual to mask her discomfort. "Rather, it is because you solicit my attention morning, noon, and night. Perhaps if you let me rest now and again, I would seek you out instead."

Kazama smiles, sliding his arm to pull her closer by the waist. "If you wish me to ease some of your burden, _my love_ ," he says, employing her favored phrase, "you have only to ask; the gods know I've offered. Or are you afraid of me?" A challenge, he reasons, may be more effective.

Sure enough, Sen scowls and flushes. "You know that isn't true!" she protests, trying halfheartedly to push Kazama away. "I am merely… cautious. Given your propensity to let positions of power go to your head." There is the merest hint of accusation in her tone, but she's careful not to appear confrontational. She's not looking for an argument.

This does little to placate Kazama. "May I remind you," he says, an edge to his voice, "that most wives, no matter their race or station, are not given the privilege of leading their husbands through the first few months of their marriage?"

"You may," responds Sen coldly. "You may also let me remind you that I never wanted to marry you in the first place. Therefore, it is only right that all our—ahem— _interactions_ be on my terms."

"You have no reason to refuse me," returns Kazama, "and you _are_ a reasonable woman, whenever you're not bent on frustrating me." She varies her attitude just enough to keep him interested, and most intriguing of all is that such behavior is not a façade for his benefit; this is simply how Sen _is_.

She gives a short, derisive laugh in response. "I ought to have known you would find some way to make this about yourself," she says, and Kazama shifts closer to her in an automatic attempt at intimidation, but Sen stands her ground. "I am not, in fact, 'bent on frustrating you'. I'm simply trying to explain that you have only slept alone for one week, and—"

Kazama cuts her off unexpectedly with a swift kiss; rather than continue, she raises her fingers to her lips half-consciously. "Can I be blamed for my desire?" he asks, and continues walking: Sen hurries after him. "You have not yet fulfilled your agreement to bear me a child—and even before you abandoned your duty, you only obliged me every second or third night. The more opportunities of which we take advantage, the better."

"Is that really your _only_ reason for propositioning me?" demands Sen.

"Beloved Sen, are you asking me to flatter you?" asks Kazama, quirking an eyebrow, and she does not meet his eyes. "Of course that's all it is. You are neither the fairest woman in the land nor the purest demon."

"I am, however, the fairest woman and the purest demon who will ever give herself to the likes of _you_ ," flares up Sen, fidgeting angrily with her obi. "I am your wife, and I will not stand for these insults, even from you. No; _especially_ from you." She tilts her chin so that she looks down at him, despite being several inches shorter. "Apologize."

"You are _not_ the fairest woman in the land," says Kazama slowly, as if to let the words sink in further, "but I never sought the fairest. And you may not be a pureblooded demon, but you still hail from one of the most prestigious lines in Japan." He sighs, bowing his head, and his voice is quiet as he continues. "For better or for worse, you _are_ the only woman in existence worthy to be my wife. You can't ask for higher praise than that."

Sen softens despite herself, torn between annoyance and amusement at her husband's predictable arrogance. Of course his highest praise to her is more a compliment to himself. "If indeed you are only so insistent in your advances because I have yet to bear your child," she remarks, matter-of-factly, "I expect you not to approach me at all after I conceive."

Kazama stops short again, catching Sen's wrist as she tries to continue past him. "What?"

"You heard me," responds Sen, turning to flutter her lashes, but her eyes are deadly serious. "You are only requesting my attention so often in the interest of producing an heir, correct? Once your goal has been accomplished, there can be no reason for you to seek me out again until after our child is born—assuming you want another."

Kazama's grip on her wrist slackens, and he stares at her. "Nine months," he mutters, glaring sullenly at the nearest tree. "You expect me to keep to myself for _nine months_?"

Sen nods, biting her lip in a not altogether successful attempt to hide the beginnings of a smile. "Alternatively," she suggests, "you can admit that you are _not_ exclusively interested in furthering our lineage, in which case, I may reconsider."

"You ask me to lie," protests Kazama, lying even as he speaks: he does not quite meet her expectant stare.

Sen feigns shock, raising a hand to her heart with a sparkle in her eyes. "Dearest Chikage, have you been _lying_ to me?" she gasps, turning her back, but glances mischievously over her shoulder. "The things you tell me in bed! All lies—I can't believe it!"

"I never lie, in bed or out of it," retorts Kazama. "Which is why I refuse to tell you I have any motivation other than to expand the Kazama clan. Really, Sen—"

"You never lie," repeats Sen, interrupting, and he falls silent to make way for her words. "Then, Chikage, we come to an interesting paradox. You say I am not the most attractive woman, now that your most _noble_ blood has returned to its rightful place, but a few nights ago—"

"I said you are not the _fairest_ ," interrupts Kazama, almost desperately, talking over her in an attempt to prevent her from explaining his contradictions.

Sen raises her eyebrows. "If there is a difference, perhaps we have differing definitions of 'fair'," she says, inviting him to explain with a demure gesture.

Kazama sighs, but obliges her, as is tradition by now. "'Fair' is a kind of beauty I can't touch without breaking it," he tells her, exasperated. "It's… delicate, which is beautiful, but not useful. Happily, I can touch _you_ , and you won't break."

"Whereas you break whenever I touch you just so," giggles Sen, moistening her lips briefly and eyeing a particular spot on his throat. "Perhaps they should call you Kazama Chikage the Fair."

"Stop it," snaps Kazama, reddening, and his fingers subconsciously find his neck as if to shield it from Sen's gaze.

"I'll stop it as soon as I understand you," she says, tilting her head innocently. "I've seen you, staring at me as I dress myself some mornings, to say nothing of the times I disrobe at night. And you don't close your eyes, or look away, when I…"

She trails off and hesitates, tilting her head, and there is a pause as she gathers her thoughts. "If you are only tolerating me until I conceive, why do you look at me like that?" continues Sen eventually, curling her fingers into resolute fists. "You don't think about _me_ , do you? After all, in your mind, I am only the future mother of your children—a means to an end."

"I would not look at you if I was not thinking of you," retorts Kazama irritably, but his glare falters in the light of Sen's sudden smile. "If indeed it's possible to _think_ at all under those circumstances," he mutters as an afterthought.

"If thinking of me is enough to encourage your body to react as it does," reasons Sen, quietly triumphant, "then you are not interested solely in impregnating me. Especially as the idea of letting me alone for nine months is so distressing to you." Kazama opens his mouth as she speaks, then closes it again, glancing aside in clear frustration. His wife has won, and they both know it.

There is a very long, very still silence before he finds his voice.

"Up until our— _eventual_ —wedding night," growls Kazama finally, recalling how long Sen managed to delay it, "I believed that you were indeed a means to an end. But I have since realized that… I enjoy the journey as much as I will enjoy the destination, so to speak," he finishes slowly, struggling to find a way to admit she's right without saying as much. "That's all."

Sen laughs gently. "As a reward for your honesty," she says, "I will give you exactly one chance to prove that it is not a terrible idea to let you set the pace. And as a punishment for your _paradox_ ," she adds, more severely, "I refuse to lie with you any more often than I already do. Three or four times a week is quite enough no matter which of us is in control, thank you."

Kazama heaves a resigned sigh. "Then I'll put my mind to changing yours," he says, by way of sealing their deal, and starts walking alongside Sen again.

"I wish you luck," she says, her voice a little too warm to be dismissive—almost as though she really means it. "No amount of persuasion can erase exhaustion, after all… no matter how seductive you are."

"You will be less exhausted if you let me take charge once in awhile," says Kazama, so certainly that Sen almost takes his word for it. He can be dangerously convincing when he wants to be. "You work yourself too hard. It's only right that I share your burden now and again."

"I appreciate the sentiment, dear husband," sighs Sen, "but I fear that my satisfaction is dependent on my own hard work. Unless you make an _overwhelmingly_ positive impression tonight, it is likely to stay that way."

"Could it be, sweet wife, that you doubt my ability to complete you?" asks Kazama, glancing over at her inquisitively. "I'd be well justified in leaving you unfulfilled, given the torment you've put me through, but my honor as a demon and as a man would never stand for it." He smiles thinly as another possibility occurs to him. "Or perhaps you're afraid of the other extreme—what I might make you feel?"

"Neither is true!" exclaims Sen, a little too quickly, and Kazama's smile widens as he recognizes that he hit the mark on both counts. Both are true, then. "I simply don't like the idea of… of _surrender_ ," she explains lamely, staring straight ahead to avoid eye contact.

"It isn't surrender; you like a challenge just as much as I do," points out Kazama, stepping aside courteously to let Sen walk before him as the trail narrows. "And, incidentally, you're operating out of order. Ordinarily, you're supposed to let me have my way first, _then_ complain about it." His tone is… affectionate, more even than he intends it to be.

Sen stops and turns, looking back at him momentarily, and he halts as if pinned in place. "Do you love me, Chikage?" she asks, hesitantly, honest curiosity in her every feature. There is little more to discuss until they reach the inn; her question is all that remains, even if she's not sure the answer matters.

Kazama finds himself brought up short, frowning slightly as he tries to think of what he is supposed to say—what she wants to hear. He's never been able to read her well enough to say the right thing, so he decides on the truth, as always… but 'yes' and 'no' both seem like lies, so he will have to find some other way to explain what he feels.

"Only as much as you love me, Sen," he decides eventually, and as they share an oddly content smile, that answer more than anything else feels correct.


End file.
